Denim Wash or Sheer Romance?
by nerdygaycas
Summary: "Dean… this one—" he points at a square in the color deck, the one at the top "is obviously Sheer Romance, whereas this right here is Denim Wash. Sometimes I truly believe you're purposefully obtuse about this stuff" Domestic AU, Feminization.


**I had this idea when I was taking a shower and I thought hey, this could be a good story.**

**Forgive me, I just love feminizing male characters. Sorry.**

* * *

"This one or _this_ one?"

"Cas, they look exactly the same"

Cas lets out a loud and prolonged sigh, rolls his eyes and his face is one of absolute annoyance.

"Dean… this one—" he points at a square in the color deck, the one at the top "is obviously Sheer Romance, whereas _this_ right here is Denim Wash. Sometimes I truly believe you're purposefully obtuse about this stuff"

Dean could care no less about the damn painting, the both look identical to him. Light blue. He knows he's not going to win this one; he never does, actually. So he wraps his arms around Cas' waist from behind and rests his chin on his shoulder.

"Okay. We've been here for what, 3 hours? What if we buy _both_, we try them _both_, and you choose the one you like the most, babe? Is that alright?"

He can feel Cas' shoulders sagging a bit and his lithe body leaning back against his chest.

"Okay" says the shorter man, and his voice is small, and coy, and defeated.

He turns his head and Dean steals a quick and sloppy kiss from his fiancé. His lips taste of green apple and it makes Dean want to be in his house and the privacy it offers. But he isn't, so he doesn't kiss again when Cas pulls back.

There are two brushstrokes on the stark white wall. Dean's opinion hasn't changed about how both colors are the same, but Cas is tilting his head and taking some steps back to see how it looks from another angle. Tilting his head to the other side he unfolds his crossed arms and grunts dramatically.

Dean chuckles softly and takes a look at his soon-to-be husband drinking him all in. Cas is barefoot, and he's wearing his 'domestic clothes', because the guy actually went shopping right after buying the house; his jeans look all faded and his shirt is a shade of odd red, almost pink.

"You know, I'm starting to believe the problem isn't the painting. Maybe it's the room itself. It's too dark, don't you think it's too dark? Maybe we should make another window, or add a skylight, that'd look rather nice. We should pick another master bedroom, not that there are others to begin with, but if we add an ensuite bathroom to the one in the first floor maybe it could… it could work?"

And it's cute, Dean thinks, the fact that Cas gets so worked up for something so trivial like this and the way his headscarf is kinda untying. He's just too adorable.

"Hey, hey, Cas. Look at me" Cas stares to where Dean is standing, they're so very close, and remembers they used to do this before dating, it took them a hell of a lot time to get to where they are right now.

Dean grabs his elbow with tenderness and Cas feels his nervousness/frustration/worry sink down.

Now he just feels grumpy and he hates being grumpy anywhere around Dean but he can't help it because fuck, choosing between Denim Wash and Sheer Romance shouldn't be so difficult.

"C'mon, babe. It's not like we're gonna stare at the wall when we're here, right? There are other… much more fun things to do in our bedroom… on _our_ bed?" Dean pulls him closer, hips pressed against each other's, and he starts a slow sway he hopes is seductive.

Maybe he'll get lucky.

"Dean. Stop."

Dean refuses because dammit, Cas looks just too perfect. This time, when their lips crash, Cas tastes like cinnamon. It's a bit spicy and refreshing and Dean just loves how addicted Cas is to chapsticks.

"Not now, Dean. Stop"

And this time he does because he's not the creepy-ass kind son of a bitch who forces people sexually.

"Cas, wait!"

Dean is left in a white stark room with only two brushstrokes of the same damn color covering it, and two buckets of painting over protected wooden floors.

Cas spends the rest of the day sulking and rearranging his closet over and over again because he can't choose if it's best by color, season, or usefulness, whatever the hell that is.

Dean is in his office finishing a letter for one of the company's associate when he calls home. Cas will pick up quickly, Dean knows, because the guy quit his job when they started looking at houses. He says it's because they'll be too busy and Dean can't leave his so very important job, but Dean knows Cas picked out the housewife life, because he likes being the housewife.

After two rings, Cas' low voice answers. His breathing sounds a little troubled and Dean frowns.

"Hey, babe."

"Uh… hi, Dean. How's work going?"

"It's, you know, fine."

The response is a low _hmm_, indicating his interlocutor caught the message.

"What are you doing, Cas?" Dean asks, he's playing with the desk pendulum and the movement hypnotizes him for some time.

Cas is using his unsure voice, the one that makes his sentences higher at the end as if asking a question, and sounds scratchy and evasive.

"Uh… just, you know. Doing some housework." From the other end of the line Dean answers nothing and waits for Cas to elaborate. "I'm painting, okay?"

Dean cannot actually believe it makes him somewhat unhappy and disappointed in the inside.

"Oh"

"Sorry"

"No, it's fine. I just… I guess I thought this was gonna be something we'd do together."

"Yes, I know, love, but… I felt like painting today, and I thought hey, why not?" Cas giggles but it's not funny, it's nervous.

"Isn't that room a little too big for you to paint on your own?" Dean's tone is teasing now, because really, he's not gonna be the one to get upset over a half-painted bedroom.

"I'm fairly sure there'll still be a wall for you to paint, Dean" Cas chuckles and it warms Dean because it sounds like Cas again, no shyness and no agitation.

Dean leans back in his leather chair and plays with a silver pen. A mischievous grin adorning his face "So…"

"What?" and Cas is most certainly still painting while he's on the phone.

"Wanna go out tonight, Cas? After all, you _did_ start our project without me. I think I deserve a reward."

Dean doesn't need to see Cas to know he's smiling and shaking his head, a faint blush spreading on his cheeks.

"What do you have in mind?"

"Nothing fancy. You, me, dinner, sex."

"Aren't you a hopeless romantic?" Cas laughs and puts down the brush and cocks his head looking at the wall. Yeah, Denim Wash was the right choice.

"Be ready at eight"

"Okay"

"And by eight I actually mean eight, not nine when our reservation 's no longer valid."

"That was once, Dean! And we still had a pretty good time, even without that dinner. Or did you forget?"

Dean feels heat on his skin, and his tie is a little too tight. Remembering that specific night always has this effect on him.

Cas must notice because his voice is now a soft playful purr.

"I can make it better than last time, Dean." A shiver runs down Dean's spine "I can't wait for our date tonight, love. I really wish you were here"

Clearing his throat Dean says he'd like to be there too, and his goodbye is hitched. Good thing he finished the letter before calling Cas.

Dean is waiting for Cas in the living room. That room has already been victim of Cas' decoration skills. It's bright and it feels bigger than it really is; the carpet offers a nice contrast with the furniture. The fireplace crackles but Dean doesn't care. It isn't winter but Cas likes keeping the hearth blazing with fire, he says it's soothing.

It's a quarter to eight when Cas enters the living room, his smile is sheepish, just like every time they have a date since the first date.

Dean can't take his eyes off him. He's wearing a grey blazer over a striped white shirt and a pair of dark jeans that are a bit too tight.

"You look…wow, Cas"

"You like it?" Cas comes to the sofa where Dean is sprawled and sits on his lap, lacing his arm around his neck.

From here Dean can see Cas is wearing makeup. He always does when they go out. His deep blue eyes framed by dark eyeliner, his lashes are longer and there's a subtle pink on his eyelids. This time his lips taste different and Dean can't identify this flavor.

Cas nips at Dean's bottom lip and lets the other man brush his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

Dean moans deep inside Cas, his hands caressing Cas' sides with a up and down motion.

"What's it?" he asks, his lips still pressed lightly against his fiancé's.

Cas hums and mutters "Mm… velvet cupcake"

Dean chuckles and squeezes Cas "Didn't know you had that one"

"It's new. Seasonal offer or something"

They dine at an Italian restaurant. Dean can't concentrate entirely on what's going on because Cas is downright gorgeous and _his_ and he can't wait to get home.

Cas on the other hand is chatty and delighted with the relaxing course of the evening. His black angel spaghetti was scrumptious and so was his wine. They hadn't visited this place before but he decides he likes it and they'll be coming back soon.

By 9:30 they're heading home.

The room is no longer stark white, it's light blue. Or Denim Wash. The only piece of furniture is a king size canopy bed covered with pale sheets.

The anticipation is killing Dean. He wants Cas without clothes now! Well, not without all clothes, but some of them.

Dean sits on the bed, back against headboard, as Cas begins to strip. It isn't highly graceful but it definitely is sexy. He too is taking off his clothes, but with much more swift and clumsy movements.

When he looks at Cas again, he's just wearing his lingerie.

Dean always knew Cas was effeminate, what he didn't know was how fucking much he'd love it. Everything Cas does -from painting his toenails, shaving his legs, and wearing makeup, to reading fashion magazines and longing to be a housewife- Dean loves.

"Baby, I love you so. Fucking. Much" Dean is kneeling on the bed like Cas is, his hands trailing a path from Cas' shoulders to his hips and deviating to his ass, squeezing it.

Cas' nipples are already hardened and Dean sucks at one while giving the other a twinge. That earns him a loud whimper and Cas presses him down on the mattress to straddle him.

Long pale legs under laced black stocking and attached to suspender belts; the panty has a little black bow and everything's lace and black and bows and Dean can't help but too buck up his hips.

They're both rock hard by the time they can't keep the foreplay because men have needs. Dean rolls them over and Cas starts to get rid of his lingerie. Dean helps by unfastening the suspender belts with his mouth.

"Fuck, Cas!" he groans and nuzzles in Cas' groin feeling the heat and wetness dripping from the head. Lace dividing mouth and cock, Dean gasps and hurries what he's doing. In a couple of minutes Cas is completely bare, his reddened length finally free.

He lunges forward to mesh his tongue with Dean's and humps his lower belly in the process.

"Ah… Cas. Bed. Lie… lie down"

Cas complies without a second thought bringing Dean down with him.

Bodies slick with sweat the friction is inevitable. But simple friction isn't enough at this point. Dean reaches under a pillow where a packet of lube is always kept and coats his fingers with it.

Cas has his eyes closed, legs spread wide and his flushed penis is being stroked by his right hand. He whispers and whispers. _Dean Dean Dean_.

"Shh, baby. It's fine" Dean kisses his tummy over and over and then the insides of his thighs. "Open your eyes"

Cas moans vulgarly when a finger makes its way inside his clenched hole. His eyelids flutter and his whole body trembles. Dean is leaving hickeys on his neck and collarbones and that turns him even more on because Dean is marking him.

"More" Dean hears the word, it's a faint sound but from his point of view, it's an order as well.

Two fingers deep inside Dean rewards his ow dick with careless strokes. What he wants, what he _needs_, is to be enveloped by Cas, to feel his hole contract viciously around his shaft, and to come inside him ecstatically almost painfully.

"Dean. Now,now, _now_!" Cas complains, he's writhing under Dean and fucking himself with two fingers buried inside him.

Dean nods abruptly, eyes blown by lust and desire. He positions himself and looks at Cas before slamming deep balls inside him with one rapid motion. Cas' hole is incredibly hot and slippery and it grips his cock perfectly.

Cas notices Dean isn't moving, probably to give him time to accommodate but he's having none of that bullshit. His hips go up and down trying to find the right angle. Each position change makes him mewl and leaves him breathless. Dean starts moving then and dives down for a bruising kiss.

Cas has his arms around Dean's shoulder blades in an instant to be as close as he can. The thrusts are somewhat frantic and Dean's hitting his sweet spot each fucking time and he's screaming something he can't understand and Dean… Dean is past the point of no return, lost in sensation, in the way Cas will come to meet him with every jab just taking it all.

Dean comes before Cas. The pulses of his cock spilling inside Cas are utter rapture. That pulls out a loud cry from Cas who reaches climax screaming noisily something unintelligible.

Dean pulls out and licks the spunk on top of Cas. He settles on bed and Cas crawls to his side resting his head on Dean's damp chest, naked bodies cooling from the heat. The weight of the blue eyed man is comforting over him.

"Your eyeliner got messed up, Cas" mumbles Dean, his fingers carding Cas' hair lazily.

Cas hums in agreement.

"I like it when you use lingerie, babe" Dean's voice is all sleepy and his eyes are closed and the room feels warm and Cas feels fucking amazing, like he is where he's always belonged. Cas _hmms_ again.

"I don't like Denim Wash anymore, Dean"

Dean can barely understand what his fiancé's talking about at this point of post-coital lethargy.

"We'll paint Sheer Romance tomorrow, Dean. And—" he yawns "we have to buy a carpet"

Dean opens his eyes and kisses Cas' forehead, and oh yeah, the makeup is totally ruined. "Whatever you say, babe."


End file.
